Painting Water

Now that I'm back in the pool, I'm finding some things to be different. There are more often people there I know to talk to. More of us seem... uh, less slim than in former years. More tattoos show, though that can fool you: what I was sure was a leaf and ferns pattern over a shoulder blade became, on closer look, a bruise. I'm guessing there is a story there, probably one all too common in a population acquainted with falls and blood thinners.

The fact that we're here in the summer, when our typical pool hours are still in daylight, creates difference as well. At first it used to be just that we were out seeing whatever sunsets the desert skies were producing. Some are still blah, but if it's spectacular we're not busy indoors. But today was something extraordinary. Sunday means the pool closes earlier, so we were in the water while the sun was still about an hour from setting. It made all the difference.

It's all in how the pool is constructed. The sky is open, but it has two-story walls of the community center on two sides, with short walls with decorative iron bar railings offering views out the other two sides. It's more open north and west, more surrounded east and south. Taking advantage of southwest traditions, all the exterior walls are stucco, and in this case a bit more brownish than what's common. That made what happened possible.

As the sun was setting, its light climbed up the two stories of the eastern side. It hinted at turning it golden, but when the eye is used to seeing brown either nighttime-dark or daytime-light, color changes are easily dismissed. It's much like taking a photo of snow in both sun and shade, and finding out later that shaded snow is blue. The eye says it's just a less bright white, but still white. The photo says otherwise.

 Water does interesting things with colors too.

The surface of the pool catching reflections was adding it's magic,  turning lighter brown into a blindingly bright marigold. What really set it off were the other two colors it picked up, the intense blue reflected from the late day cloudless sky directly above, and the aqua of the pool from below squeezing between reflections.  The currents in the water and disturbances of passing pool walkers separated the colors into dancing ovals or shimmers in endless motion, tossing colors around wildly, never blending them into each other but just moving them dizzyingly, soothingly, hypnotically.

I needed my pool walking exercise, and while hating to lose that color feast, it did prompt me to follow the path around until its curves brought me to the next spot where the angles lined up to repeat the display. And again. And again. In all it lasted for over 20 minutes, the quantity of gold slowly diminishing as the shade crept its inevitable way up the side of the building until the sun finally set. With that, the deep blue also changed, giving way to nondescript lighter and darker shapes more likely attributable to lights coming on, with the aqua now the preeminent color.

I'd had plenty of time to observe my fellow walkers. Nobody seemed to notice this great gift. Conversations about kids, neighbors, coyote sightings, health and home states went on without a falter. I was the only one to stop occasionally in the right spot to soak it all in. How could they not see it?

What a night it would have been to have brought along a camera!